


Of Masks and Marriage

by Silmarwen



Series: Dimiclaude Week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - No War, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, DimiClaudeWeek2020, M/M, Masks, Masquerade, Mutual Pining, Pining, Political Marriage, hidden identities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silmarwen/pseuds/Silmarwen
Summary: A part of the peace treaty between Fódlan and their neighbor Almyra results in Faerghus' Crown Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd becoming engaged to one of the Almyran King's sons. The wedding is to occur in five years and they're celebrating the signing of the treaty with a masquerade at Garreg Mach Monastery, where Dimitri meets a boy wearing a deer mask.Dimiclaude Week Day 2: First & Lasts/Dance
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: Dimiclaude Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589623
Comments: 18
Kudos: 209





	Of Masks and Marriage

Work on a peace treaty between Fódlan and their neighbor Almyra began earlier in the year 1180, and one of the agreed terms was the marriage between one of the Almyran King’s children to one of Fódlan’s nation's heirs. The Leicester Alliance was ruled out of this agreement, even if they were closest to Almyra physically the workings of the Roundtable meant it was not an ideal union. The Adrestian Empire, though a worthy candidate, were physically too far. So that left only one option, The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, connected to Almyra by sea.

That is how Crown Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd found himself engaged to an Almyran prince he has never met. Their marriage will occur five years from now at Garreg Mach Monastery. Currently, the monastery is holding a Masquerade ball to celebrate the engagement of the Kingdom’s Crown Prince and the signing of the peace treaty with Almyra.

Dimitri frowns, hiding in the corner of the ballroom, wearing a full-face silver and blue lion mask, common among those from Faerghus at the event, though Ingrid is wearing a pegasus mask and Felix a wolf mask. He also recalls seeing Sylvain wandering off with one of the ladies, his fox mask slowly slipping off. Everyone is wearing a standard black and gold evening wear, customary for the monastery when they hold such events. After all, masquerades are best enjoyed due to the anonymity they provide. The prince finds himself thankful for this, being able to stick to himself instead of the usual pleasantries expected of him if he were unmasked.

He himself is currently trying to melt into the wall. Normally he’s quite good at talking to people around events like this, but it’s hard when you’re the one to be married off as a part of the peace treaty. Edelgard spoke to him earlier, reminding him that political marriages are to be expected for them as heirs to their respective nations and that the Almyran Prince will be coming to Faerghus, not the other way around. She joked about how he’d likely melt in Almyra. He appreciates his stepsister’s humor, it eased the blow, if only for a moment.

He knows his father is proud of him, everyone is proud of him for accepting this marriage without complaint, because he knows he doesn’t have a choice. Peace between Fódlan and Almyra has been a long and difficult process over the last few decades, and they’re finally so close. Plus, he’s always known his spouse would be chosen for political means, this doesn’t change what he was expecting for years. The only thing that has him nervous, okay there’s a lot of things, but the current thing is he won’t meet his fiancé for another five years. That’s five years for him to worry about if they don’t get along, to worry about being unable to met expectations.

He’s completely unaware that he’s got company until he hears them clear their throat. Snapping out of his spiralling thoughts, he looks to his left, where a boy shorter than him wearing a full-face deer mask, colored in shades of yellow and gold, waves. They must be someone from the Alliance then. He had hoped it was Edelgard for a moment. But she’s across the room, in her full-face eagle mask of reds and blacks, Hubert close beside her. He wonders if Dedue is nearby. A part of him hopes he is, and another hopes he’s mingling on his own, enjoying himself.

“Hello. Do you need something?” He asks, using a pleasant voice. He’s thankful that with the mask, he doesn’t have to force a smile as well.

“Oh, I was just thinking how it’s such a waste for a tall lion to be spending so much time hiding in a corner? Feeling too shy around everyone?” The boy’s voice has a joyful tone. Dimitri’s almost certain he’s smirking behind his mask.

“I danced earlier, so I’m resting for now. Why are you _hiding in a corner_ , as you put it?”

“Oh, I’m resting too.” The boy laughs before turning away to takes a sip of his celebratory wine. It’s custom to give those wearing full-face masks privacy when they need to drink or eat, an honor system. Something Dimitri, a person born in the Kingdom, can appreciate. So, he looks back to the dance floor while his company drinks.

“There are still other places to rest so, what brought you to my corner?” Dimitri asks, a little blunter than normal but he’s allowed to be. This boy doesn’t know who he really is, he can’t judge him. He is also on his third glass of wine, it might be watered down but it still has an effect.

“You looked lonely. I was hoping my honey sweet voice could help keep you company.” The boy replies, leaning in to whisper in his ear before pulling back, playing it off all innocent like.

“I have no interest in what you’re implying.” Dimitri hopes he’ll leave, he reminds him of Sylvain, and he’s not in the mood for dealing with a second Sylvain now.

“Oh, I just meant talking, maybe dancing even. I’m here on my uncle’s request. In fact, this is my first time attending a masquerade.”

“Oh?” Dimitri finds himself relaxing a little, as he’s also being forced to attend as well. “Are you enjoying it so far?”

“Hmmm, yes. I like feasts and banquets so it’s nice. Reminds me of home, though I will admit, the masks are a new thing for me. But the anonymity is nice, I can see the appeal of it.”

“Mhmm.” Dimitri finds himself lost in the boy’s voice as they continue to chatter with the sound of others dancing fading into the background. They speak vaguely of their family, their homes, things that won’t give away their identities before the deer-masked boy puts his glass down, offering his hand.

“A dance?” He asks, and Dimitri finds himself taking up his offer.

The music is that of an Alliance folk dance, so Dimitri follows his lead, unfamiliar with the fluid movements. His dance partner is much nimbler than him on his feet, but Dimitri still feels like he’s floating as they dance together.

They lose themselves in the music, only leaving to get fresh air after what feels like hours later. Dimitri swears all of it’s a dream. For once, he’s seeing something good in attending the celebration for his engagement but remembering that brings down his light and cheerful mood immediately.

“Mr. Lion?” He hears his companion. Friend? He hopes this boy considers them friends after all this, maybe. He’s been warned he’s too willing to make friends with everyone he meets, but it shouldn’t hurt here.

“Yes?”

“You seem down. Something bothering you?" Is he that easy to read? Or is this boy just as skilled as Sylvain at reading even strangers?

He shakes his head. “No, I was just…thinking of how we won’t see each other again after this.” Hopefully this will satisfy him. It isn't a lie either, he has enjoyed their time together. But he’s also not ready to remove his mask. Will his new friend be disappointed?

“I feel the same, but it would be weird to remove our masks. How about instead we exchange names? They don’t even need to be our real names. Just names between the two of us. Sound good?”

Dimitri can do that. He has the perfect name for himself, the one his nannies used to use when he was a toddler. “That seems reasonable. I’m Mitya.” He wonders how his friend would have reacted if he knew who he really was.

“I’m Claude. I hear these events happen a few times a year. I’m gonna ask my uncle to keep letting me come if it means I get to chat with you again, Mitya.”

The warmth of Claude’s words fills Dimitri with a sudden spark of anticipation, at the chance of seeing him again. “I…I agree.”

They spend the rest of the evening together outside, watching the stars until they part early in the morning. Dimitri finds himself looking forward to the next masquerade, after this first meeting with Claude, the boy in the deer mask.

* * *

It’s now the year 1185 and they’re holding another masquerade ball at Garreg Mach Monastery to celebrate Dimitri’s impending marriage to his Almyran fiancé. The wedding is two days from now, and it is at this ball that Dimitri will be meeting the man he will be marrying for the first time. The main event of the ball, as everyone keeps reminding him.

Dimitri isn’t ready for this. He should be, he’s royalty, he’s been preparing for years, but he’s also fallen in love during all that time.

With Claude, the boy, the man, who he’s only been able to meet at masquerades. Who he’s only even seen wearing that full-face deer mask. The man who cooed and smiled when Dimitri told him about how facing a bandit raid caused him to lose his right eye, with only a scar remaining. The man who said it probably made him more handsome. The man whose sweet voice haunts his dreams.

A loud groan escapes the Crown Prince’s lips. He’s wearing a mask and evening wear like all the previous masques he’s attended, his shoulder length hair partially contained in a ponytail. Due to the nature of his mask, he’s able to get away with not wearing his eyepatch, though it remains in his pocket on the off chance he needs it. 

He’s not ready for any of this. To give up on his crush without ever seeing his face, to marry a man he’s never met. He wonders if he can just hide in the cathedral instead. He recalls a conversation he had with Sylvain a week prior.

_“You know what I think you should do?” Sylvain hums, looking over his new fox mask for the ball._

_“I don’t need your advice on this.” Dimitri sighs, rubbing his temple. Of his friends, Sylvain has been the one he’s gone to about his feelings for Claude, and his advice has been, difficult to consider._

_“Well you’re getting it anyways, Your Highness. I think if it’s really breaking you apart, you and Claude should just elope.”_

_Sylvain knows better, but he still offers it and it’s still exhausting hearing it. Only because he’s dreamt of it, knowing he can’t do it unless he wants to ruin the peace treaty. Instead he just shoots him a frown. “Sylvain, you know that’s impossible.”_

Now he’s frowning again as he glances around the dance hall. He hopes to spend the evening with Claude for as long as he can before he’s whisked away to meet his fiancé. Ever so often wyvern masks stand out in the crowd, the Almryan guests. Apparently, it took a lot of convincing before they would put on the standard evening wear for the ball. He wonders if he’s already spotted his fiancé among the crowd or not.

Too busy watching the people walking around the room, he doesn’t notice when a man in a familiar deer mask walks up beside him. “Enjoying the people watching Mitya?”

Dimitri’s muscles tense up on reflex before he allows himself to relax as he turns to him. “Claude, I was just waiting.”

“For me?”

“Always, I’d only ever wait like this for you.” He wants to ignore what’s to come later, enjoy his last time indulging in his attachment to the man standing before him instead. He can hear Claude trying to recollect himself. He’s always said his honesty will be the death of him, so again, he will indulge even in this.

“Now then, would you prefer talking or dancing?” Claude asks after he recovers, the smooth playful tone back in his voice.

 _Both, forever._ Dimitri’s mind answers but he holds it inside. “The evening is still young. I’d prefer talking for now.” It’ll keep his mind off other things until he’s had a proper fill of wine to dance without the worry of his heart racing and drowning out the sound of Claude’s laughter as they hold each other close.

Claude laughs before turning away to take a swig of his own wine. It almost seems like Claude is nervous about something. His heart hopes for a second for something he can’t have. “So, how is your eye? Still having issues with things on your right side or have you been adjusting well to it?”

“I’ve finally been able to adjust; my combat skills are even improving past what they once were. What about your grand idea of getting a pegasus to let you ride it?”

Claude let's out a hollow wail of fake despair. “Oh, how they spur me. I am doomed never to soar above the clouds.”

“Have you considered wyverns? Being from the Alliance you should have access to at least one.”

“But Mitya, that would mean admitting defeat!” He leans on Dimitri’s shoulder while continuing his over dramatic show. Dimitri finds himself smiling as he takes in how much he’s grown over the years while Claude hasn’t grown at all from the height he was when they first met. He reaches over subconsciously and runs his fingers through Claude’s hair, freezing when he feels the other man stiffen.

“Sorry.” He apologizes. “You just, sounded like you could use some comforting.” He winces internally at the lie. He did it because he’s always wanted to, a slip in his control. Hopefully Claude doesn’t call out his poor fib.

Claude takes a moment to reply. “It’s okay. Felt nice. Thanks.” The last part comes out as a mumble, and Dimitri finds his heart jump at the possibility he means it.

They continue chatting, letting small touches slip in ever so often. Dimitri craves this, indulging in every touch of Claude’s fingers on his own.

Eventually a change in the music catches Claude's attention and he's leading him out to the dance floor. Times like these Dimitri appreciates just being ‘Mitya’ to Claude. Being able to hold him close as they dance, no need to worry about being the Faerghus Crown Prince, of being engaged, of the scandal it would cause. Their entire friendship is built on the anonymity of the masque and while he enjoys it, deep down it also terrifies him.

It feels like they dance for hours, Dimitri wishes they could keep dancing for longer but it's clear Claude's getting tired, so they’re forced back into their corner. Dimitri brings over some water, smiling when Claude easily takes the glass, his hand lingers where they touch.

Just as Dimitri tries to speak, he spots a woman with a half-face deer mask in pink and gold approaching. Her long vibrant pink hair flutters behind her as Claude stiffens up beside him when he notices her as well.

“There you are. They’re looking for you.”

“Who?”

“My uncle, he needs me to do something tonight. I was hoping we’d have more time to spend together before it came up.” Claude explains. Dimitri is so focused on that fact that this means he won’t see him anymore, he misses how dejected Claude sounds.

“So, we won’t see each other for the rest of the night.” Dimitri's heart hits rock bottom as he speaks. 

Claude pauses before he gives his answer. “Yeah. I’ll see you at the next masquerade.”

“Yeah.” Dimitri wishes he could ask him to stay, take off his mask, telling him he loves him, but he’s rooted on the spot as he watches Claude walk off into the crowd with the women.

He stays there, praying someone comes to end his misery, eventually joined by a grumpy Felix and Ingrid. He knows they’re keeping him company until he’s whisked away to prepare for meeting his fiancé. He’s seen Rodrigue flitting about in the crowd, expects him to approach him soon. Just after Sylvain joins them and starts talking about the last girl he danced with last, much to Felix’s grief, Rodrigue walks over.

“Your Highness, it’s time.” Dimitri nods absentmindedly, seeing his childhood friends off before following him into the crowd.

This would be the last time he’d see Claude in that deer mask. He hopes he can hold all his memories of him in his heart forever.

* * *

Dimitri follows Rodrigue up to the room where he is to meet his fiancé after changing into more suitable attire. His full-face lion mask traded for a half-face one decorated with more vibrant blue gems in the lion’s mane, more shades of blue and silver, a mask fit for Faerghus’ Crown Prince. His formal wear, dressed in fine materials of blues, blacks, whites and silver linings, a long blue cape attached at his shoulders covered with stunning furs. His hair hangs freely as he nervously stops in front of the large room. Inside, his fiancé waits.

Once he’s inside the door closes, leaving him alone with the other person standing on the opposite side. The man is facing the window, wearing traditional Almyran cloth colored in vibrant shades of yellow, green and brown. There’s a sash around his waist with poms hanging from the end. He seems to have a similar build to Claude from the back, similar hair color, though slicked back and styled. Dimitri can feel his throat tightening as he thinks of Claude even during this moment. He can see the makings of a wyvern mask from the back, though it’s color and details are lost on him from this angle.

There’s an awkward silence in the room as he tries to figure out what to say to his future husband. He decides to first take one step, then another as he walks closer, hoping he can work out a proper greeting soon.

“It is my pleasure to finally meet you.” He says, too stiff as he bows down. He lingers there, too nervous to move out of his bowed position as he hears the other man turn and walk a little closer. There’s a sound of him picking something up. But it’s when he hears an oddly familiar faint chuckle that he moves back up into a proper standing position and looks at him, mouth hanging open in shock at what he sees.

The man’s holding a familiar full-face deer mask in front of his half-face wyvern mask, silver with brilliant sparkling gems of gold and white, a smile on his face as he chuckles warmly. Dimitri’s trying to piece it all together because he _knows_ that mask, danced with the man wearing it earlier, was heartbroken when they parted. How? Why? His mind is abuzz with questions as he just continues to stare.

“Speechless Mitya?” That voice.

“C-Claude?” He asks, still in a state of shock at this sudden revelation. Claude is his fiancé? But he said he was from the Alliance.

“Surprised? Sorry for keeping secrets. I hope you won’t hold it against me.” Claude says, placing the deer mask down and Dimitri finds himself staring into his emerald green eyes through his mask, they’re just as vibrant as he imagined they would be.

“You…knew?” He finds himself thinking over Claude’s words. “But you said you were from the Alliance.”

“Technically I am in a way. I’ve been spending time at my mother’s side of the family. She’s originally from Fódlan.” He walks closer, cautiously, as if to give Dimitri time to react. “My uncle is actually Godfrey von Riegan.”

Dimitri stares at him. The Riegan House leads the Alliance, but this fact simply adds to his confusion. “If you are connected to the Riegan family by blood, why the marriage to me?”

He doesn’t miss how Claude’s easy smile falters and slips from his face as he turns away, to stare at the window again. “Because my mother eloped with my father, so it was never officially recognized. And there was no way I could marry into the von Riegan family as an existing member of it.”

“But why me?” Dimitri cannot stop the rising anger in his voice as he throws out his arm, his mouth set in a tight line as he scowls at him.

“Do you regret it, knowing it’s me?” Claude asks him and there’s no joy, no sweet sound in his voice that he's so used to from him. This is the most serious he’s ever heard him and it's almost heart breaking.

“I…” He feels conflicted about everything. Claude lied to him, it hurts to realize he lids to him. But he’s enjoyed their time together so much over the past five years, and isn't that how the masque works? So, why can’t he just be happy with this revelation?

Claude let's out a small sound, sitting down on the window sill while he adjusts his mask. “Maybe it’s better that I give my reason behind all this. Have a seat.” He motions for the chair by the window, content with remaining where he is on the sill.

Dimitri doesn’t move right away, still overwhelmed. Eventually, he slowly makes his way to sit in the offered chair, keeping his good eye on Claude. It's important he hears him out.

“Alright.” Claude clears his throat and adjusts his mask again, possibly a nervous habit. With the half-mask, Dimitri finds himself focusing on his mouth, his jaw, the faint beard that trails along it, how his tanned skin glows in the moonlight sneaking in behind him. He forces himself to focus on maintaining eye contact.

“Dimitri, I approached you for one reason five years ago. I wanted to get to know you, not the Crown Prince everyone gossips about, but the real you. Masquerades are good for that after all.” He lets out a laugh, and Dimitri’s heart aches. It’s not the one he’s used to, it sounds forced, fake. “You were so kind, so I guess I might have pushed my luck. Ideally, we’d have just talked and not see each other again until now, but I got indulgent. I wanted to talk more, to just be _Claude_ to you for a little bit longer instead of being your _Almyran fiancé_.”

Dimitri finds himself calming with his confession. Claude’s words feel honest and truthful to him. “Claude.” He doesn’t even notice he’s said his name until he's staring at him, lips part in a little _o_ shape.

Standing, he walks over to Claude, his fiancé, and it's finally hitting him. Claude has always been his fiancé, soon to become his husband. If what Claude said is true, and his heart believes it is, then Claude was always himself with him in the past, the only lie being knowing who he was.

He stands in front of him, towering over the man as they stare into each other’s eyes. Claude's tongue licks over his lips before he bites slightly into his bottom lip, waiting for Dimitri to speak, to do something. Slowly he reaches up to gingerly touch his jaw, fingers running over the bristly hair there.

His fingers travel higher, reaching his mask. Claude doesn't stop him as he hooks them under it, gently, ever so gently lifting it up, his breath hitching as he removes it with ease. Dimitri cannot help but take in the face of the man who’s haunted his dreams and fantasies over the past few years.

“Mitya.” Claude’s whispers, a bright smile sneaking onto his face as Dimitri’s free hand cups his cheek. As he puts down the mask, he moves his other hand to hold his chin. Gently he runs his thumb over those smooth lips as Claude gazes at him, eyes half-lidded as he leans in his palm. Dimitri starts to lean down as the other prince's hands move to guide him, one grasping his collar and the other easing behind his neck as their lips connect.

The initial kiss starts off gentle, uncertain as Dimitri presses into Claude’s welcoming lips. He pulls back to take a deep breath when he feels Claude’s hand on his neck pull him back in to meet a more forceful kiss, full of a longing and neediness the previous lacked. A moan escapes his throat, which Claude eats up eagerly as the hand once holding his collar reaches up and removes his own mask.

Dimitri's legs grew weak as Claude moves his hands into his hair, holding tight as he arches his back, tilting his head up to give Dimitri better access to his mouth, and he finds himself having to stabilize himself by moving his hands from that beautiful face onto the window sill beside Claude’s thighs. Following his growing need, he nips at Claude's lower lip which rewards him with a delicious whine escaping his fiancé, who pulls away to lean his head back, letting him kiss at his jaw.

They freeze when there’s a sudden knocking at the door. Right, everyone’s waiting for them to make their debut. Dimitri’s reluctant to move away from where he was kissing at Claude’s neck, only relenting when Claude gently pushes at his shoulder.

“We’ll…have loads of time after the wedding to do this.” Claude tells him, as if he’s trying to convince himself as well.

Dimitri nods, staring as Claude pulls him closer, kissing at the scar over his right eye. “Been wanting to do that since I heard you got hurt.” He whispers, and Dimitri can’t help the growl that escapes him as he nips at his nose.

“You’re making the idea of leaving very difficult.”

“Heh, now you know what I feel like.” Claude beams at him before slipping his mask back on. “Come, I meant it when I said we have plenty of time later.” He helps to put Dimitri’s mask back on, fixing both their hair so it’s less apparent that they’ve already been getting handsy with each other.

As they exit the room, they link arms, walking to the stairs they are to re-enter the ball at. Dimitri finds himself leaning into Claude the closer they get to the noisy crowd.

“Excited?” Claude teases him, lacing their fingers together.

“Yes. I find myself finally looking forward to the wedding for the first time in five years.” He answers him, kissing the top of his hair, noticing how Claude leans in as well. They might fall over each other if they try getting any closer.

The crowd in the ballroom still as they begin walking down the stairs. Slowly they start a round of applause, but Dimitri finds his mind completely focused on the feeling of Claude beside him. This is the beginning of their lives together, and Dimitri cannot wait to share it with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, listen, masquerades plus political marriages are a goldmine.
> 
> Also welcome to me bending prompts as much as I can.
> 
> No war setting and I still find a way for Dimitri to lose an eye.


End file.
